


Lean On Me

by brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Sort of? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 08:29:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5409998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly/pseuds/brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the prompt:Imagine your OTP living together. The heating breaks during the coldest week of winter and your OTP has to figure out how to stay warm.</p><p>I’m thinking pre-serum Steve. He and Bucky are in their little apartment in Brooklyn, and it’s almost Christmas. Neither of them have family, and Steve isn't feeling too great.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lean On Me

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm new writing for this incredibly talented fandom. I'd love to hear what you think of my first attempt.

“ _... his heart was two sizes too small…_ ”

“Know the feeling,” Steve Rogers grumbled. He was seated on the couch in front of the TV. They didn’t have cable anymore--couldn’t afford it--and they were left watching their old copy of The Grinch That Stole Christmas on the VCR. Steve didn’t know how the hell Bucky had gotten the ancient piece of technology to even work. Last Steve had checked, the thing had given up the ghost years ago.

“What was that?” James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes called from the kitchen.

“I just know how the Grinch feels,” Steve sighed. Bad move; his lungs seemed to clench up, and he was seized by a hacking cough that made him sweat under the mountain of blankets Bucky had insisted on piling on him.

Taking a few steps away from the stove, Bucky watched on in concern as he tried to get his breathing under control. It took a few seconds for the coughing to stop, and Steve gave Bucky a sheepish smile.

Bucky didn’t return it.

Pneumonia was never fun, especially when they didn’t have any heating. Especially with it being so close to Christmas.

Especially when they didn’t have any money for Steve to see a doctor.

“It’s just… Ol’ Grinch’s heart’s too small, my lungs are too small,” Steve said weakly. “Seems like we’d have a lot in common.”

For a moment, Bucky just stared at him, taking in his flushed cheeks and the thin sheen of sweat Steve knew was coating his forehead. He made an unimpressed sound before turning back to the pot on the stove.

“Yeah, only you’re not a jackass,” Bucky replied as he stirred the soup.

“He came right at the end,” Steve protested.

“Uh-huh.”

Steve bit back a sigh, shifting around on the couch and looking for the remote to turn down the sound. Only problem was, thanks to Bucky’s cocooning the damn things around him and the weakness brought on from the coughing, Steve’s arms soon grew tired from the heavy weight of the blankets.

“You need help?” Bucky asked carefully.

“No, I got it,” he huffed. Finally, he managed to free his arms, finding the remote, and hitting pause. The VCR made a weird sound, and he shot it a concerned look before turning to Bucky.

“I’m sorry ‘bout getting sick,” he said.

It took a beat too long for the words to register with Bucky; one minute, he was staring into the pot with an expression of almost scientific curiosity, the next he was scowling over at Steve.

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” Bucky asked.

An awkward shrug before Steve muttered, “I know it’s not the ideal way to spend Christmas, is all. Stuck in here taking care of me.”

Bucky let out an exasperated huff. “You’re an idiot.”

That hadn’t been the response Steve had been going for, but Bucky had called him that too many times before for him to be offended. Leaning back against the couch, he watched as Bucky ladled soup into two bowls.

While Bucky was busy, Steve took the opportunity to study his best friend furtively. He’d taken to growing his hair out these last few months. Bucky said it made him rakish; Steve worried that it was because they didn’t have money for him to go to the barber. He’d offer to cut it once he felt better.

He seldom allowed himself to stare for too long, though, for fear of making things weird. So as soon as Bucky turned back to him, carefully holding onto the bowls, Steve dropped his gaze. Instead, he looked over at the image on the screen that was skipping and jumping. The VCR was still making that weird noise.

“Thanks,” he murmured as he accepted the bowl.

It was chicken noodle soup. Steve smiled at the familiar taste.

“Your mom’s recipe.”

“Yeah. Think she’dve keeled over if could see me makin’ it.”

“She’d be proud of you, Buck.”

A sad smile touched Bucky’s features at that. This would be the third Christmas without Mrs Barnes. It didn’t get any easier.

Bucky picked up the remote, and the Grinch came back on the screen. For a few minutes, they ate in silence, elbows brushing against each other occasionally.

“You’re wrong, you know.”

“Huh?” Steve looked over at Bucky questioningly.

“‘Bout this not bein’ the best way to spend Christmas. Christmas is for family, and… Well, you’re the only family I got. Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

For a moment, Steve didn't know what to say. Slowly, he reached out to gently place his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Steve allowed his hand to stay there for only a moment before he continued eating.

It took awhile--far too long, Steve chastised himself--for him to notice that Bucky was shivering. They’d set their bowls on the floor, and were watching as the Grinch plotted and schemed to ruin Christmas for everybody. But now, looking out the corner of his eye, Steve saw that Bucky had his arms wrapped tightly around himself. Every now and again, Bucky would shiver.

“Hey,” Steve nudged Bucky’s foot with his own.

Bucky raised his eyebrows inquiringly.

“They can probably hear your teeth chattering next door. Get under here.” Steve flipped the blankets over in invitation. “C’mon, Buck,” he said when his friend hesitated. “I’m not gonna be the one to take care of you,” Steve threatened.

“Punk,” Bucky huffed. Still, he moved closer until his thigh was pressed along Steve’s, their shoulders bumping together.

“Jerk,” Steve replied automatically. His breath caught when Bucky’s arm came to rest behind him on the couch. They were so close.

For a little while, Steve tried to hold himself carefully still, being sure not to lean too much of his weight onto Bucky. But then, he was seized by another coughing fit. Even though his sides were heaving as he struggled for air, Steve was aware of Bucky’s hands resting on his shoulders. Rubbing soothing circles between his shoulder blades, Bucky’s brow furrowed as he watched Steve.

It was lucky that Steve’s cheeks were already red from the coughing. He was beyond grateful that Bucky was here, he always had been, but…

The weakness of Steve’s body had always rankled.

Finally, too tired to hold himself upright anymore, Steve sank weakly against Bucky. His breathing took a long while to even out, and all the while he was aware of Bucky’s gaze on him.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“Shut up.” And with that, Bucky wrapped an arm around Steve’s shoulder, sharing his warmth.

_Yeah, this wasn’t the worst was to spend Christmas, Steve admitted to himself._

Allowing himself to settle closer, Steve allowed his eyes to drift shut.


End file.
